


The Rational Exchange of Body Heat

by EntreNous



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cold Weather, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's colder than usual on the Enterprise, and Jim can't seem to stop standing just a little too close to Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rational Exchange of Body Heat

**Author's Note:**

> For Silent Bridge, who sent me a whole bunch of lovely fandom-y postcards! When I offered to write a little ficlet by way of thanks, they requested a Spirk ficlet, featuring anything but angst. I decided to use the "Huddle For Warmth" prompt on my Trope Bingo card, and here we are! I hope you enjoy this one!

"Brrrrr," Jim murmured as he crowded close to Spock at the science station.

Spock had to swallow and tighten his hands on the control panel to manage his reaction to his captain's closeness. After a moment, however, he recovered enough to reply, "I do not believe uttering that sound will improve your level of warmth." 

Since the standard ship temperature had decreased markedly due to a slight system malfunction, Spock had noted various Enterprise crew members undermining what Starfleet decorum guides termed "personal space." He certainly understood these actions (such as standing closer than normal to another individual) were likely unconscious: bodies seeking out heat rather than a deliberate transgression of good manners. 

Yet as the cooler air continued to prevail on the ship, Jim flouted the boundaries of propriety more flagrantly than anyone else on board. He bowed his head very close to Spock's while they conversed, even if privacy was not required. He stood directly next to Spock so that their arms pressed together, to the extent that Spock could sense the slight twitches of Jim's muscles. He went beyond his habit of reaching out to touch Spock's arm to make a point, and instead began to place a hand at the small of Spock's back, letting it rest there for several seconds. On two separate occasions, he went so far as to sling his arm over Spock's shoulders.

After the first day of the temperature change, Spock theorized that perhaps Jim felt the impact of the lower temperature more keenly than the other crewmembers. When Spock mentioned his hypothesis to Doctor McCoy, however, the doctor coughed several times in succession before he said, "Sure, that's definitely it. Jim just must be no good with cold. I mean, it's not like he grew up in _Iowa_ or anything."

Spock raised an eyebrow at McCoy's mocking tone, and elected not to inquire after the doctor's cough.

Whatever the cause of Jim's behavior, Spock had after some additional consideration determined he would not raise the topic overtly. He assumed the capable workers in Engineering would soon correct ship's regulatory systems. No doubt Jim's conduct would then return to its normal standards, eliminating the need for a discussion.

But when both problems -- the decrease in the amount of heat transmitted by the ship's vents, and Jim's increasing propensity to lean ever closer to Spock -- continued with no clear resolution in sight, Spock began to feel uneasy. The ongoing circumstances had rapidly begun to impact his performance. At the present moment alone, Jim's closeness had made Spock's cheeks flush (an unexpected flare of warmth despite the cold). It would behoove Spock to control his reaction, and yet Jim's continued proximity made doing so difficult. Moreover, his mind strayed from his work as he experienced competing urges, both to move closer to Jim and increase the warmth exchanged between them, as well as to step away from his captain so that he could avoid the strong reactions which arose as a result of the almost intimate positioning of their bodies.

Either action, however, would be inappropriate. Stepping away would no doubt risk offending the captain, who quite likely was unaware of how little space remained between their persons. Inching closer would risk causing disquiet among their colleagues on the bridge, whose distraction at this evidence of unsuitable deportment from their superior officers would cause their work to suffer.

With no other option, Spock remained as still as possible so as not to seem unduly impacted by Jim's proximity. 

"Hmmm?" Jim asked absently after a pause. "What sound?" He had by this time casually placed his hand on the control panel, his small finger precariously close to Spock's hand. Now he bent his head in order to get a better view of Spock's scanner. As he did so, his soft hair brushed against Spock's cheek.

"Brrr," Spock repeated carefully while he drew back very slightly. "You have voiced that interjection many times today in order to indicate your discomfort with the sensations of cold you are experiencing. To help you avoid further redundant exclamations, I am informing you that articulating the sound will not ameliorate your response to our working conditions." 

"Brrrr?" Jim inquired, drawing out the string of consonants. His reiteration brought a puff of warm air against Spock's neck. "Actually, I'm pretty sure it helps a little. Maybe you should try it a couple more times to see what I mean."

Spock nearly gave Jim a pointed glance but at the last moment prevented himself from inclining his head. The avoidance was fortunate, as doing so would have brought their faces into very close range. To cover his consternation, he cleared his throat discreetly. "I would rather not attempt the experiment, Captain."

"Suit yourself. But it is freaking freezing here on the bridge. People are going to react to that whether you like it or not." 

This time when Jim peered over Spock's shoulder, he shivered. That brief amount of trembling brought them approximately six millimeters closer. It also brought a strong and unprecedented urge to the fore in Spock's mind: to slip a hand around his captain's waist, draw them closer so that Jim's cheek essentially rested against his own. 

The action would not be without its advantages, Spock reasoned distractedly as Jim began to hum a little tune (causing Spock not only to hear the melody but feel the vibrations caused by the sound in Jim's body alongside his own). Jim would gain a greater degree of warmth, and in so doing would potentially stop voicing nonsensical words. He would also in all probability cease shivering -- which, though only a minor symptom to the lower temperatures, had begun to raise a disproportionate worry in Spock as to his captain's well-being. 

Though Spock himself was able to withstand extreme temperatures without complaint, he would reap a benefit as well; he could desist consciously adjusting his body's reactions to the cold and instead allow the heat from Jim's body to warm his own.

Indeed, what harm would result if Spock leaned in a few degrees? Quite likely no one else on the bridge would notice. Sulu and Chekov had long since given up the pretense of hunching over their separate controls miserably, instead adjusting their seats to huddle closer. Nyota, obviously annoyed at the continued lower temperatures, had distracted herself by intently reviewing and amending the ship's computer's introductory lessons on the Andorian language. Mister Scott was fully engaged in addressing the temperature problems on the ship's Engineering decks. And Doctor McCoy did not linger on the bridge as he often did, citing the increased incidents of "the sniffles" keeping him in sickbay.

A lifetime of denying himself small indulges, however, managed to triumph. So instead of moving closer to the captain, Spock straightened and moved several steps away from Jim under the guise of reaching over to alter a control that needed no adjustment. 

"Captain," he made himself say evenly, "you are well aware that the temperature has not approached levels necessary for what is commonly understood as 'freezing.' It is merely seventeen degrees below the normal setting for the bridge. A decrease of three additional degrees would be required to attain the temperature at which water converts to ice."

"Well, that's still seriously cold, okay? And since regulations don't let us pile sweaters over our uniforms, excuse me for registering the cold instead of acting like a robot and pretending everything is totally normal," Jim said irritably. 

He stepped away with an annoyed huff, leaving Spock with plenty of appropriate space at his station.

Spock bent over the monitor, frowning. Though by leaving Jim had technically removed the source of Spock's distraction, somehow upon the captain's departure Spock's concentration had rapidly diminished by 7.329 percent. 

 

**************

"Do you have any extra blankets?" Jim asked pitifully when Spock answered the buzzer at his door. He rubbed at his nose with the back of his wrist and then wrapped his arms around his torso. 

Silently, Spock turned and went to fetch an additional bedspread that he had not unfolded over his bunk. 

"Thanks," Jim said as he took the grey coverlet from Spock's hands. He still appeared to be suffering the effects of the cold, though he wore dark pajama pants, a long-sleeved white t-shirt, a heavy flannel plaid over-shirt, and a fuzzy knitted hat on his head. "Sure you don't need it yourself?"

"I am certain. I am capable of withstanding far more severe temperatures, and I have sufficient garments and bedclothes." Spock gestured to his own more regulation sleep attire (though he had donned an old and worn dark grey sweater in order to retain more warmth). 

Jim nodded, swaying slightly closer to Spock. He shifted from one foot to the other, hugging the blanket to his chest. "Okay. I just don't want you freezing at my expense."

"Jim, we have discussed the correct designations when referring to temperature levels --"

"Geez, you know what I mean," Jim snapped. He pivoted on his heel and left the room without a proper farewell. 

After a brief interval, Spock reassumed his position on his meditation mat. Though he once again began observing his steady breathing, he did not easily slip back into a contemplative state of mind. 

A few moments later his door buzzed again.

"Listen," Jim said, striding inside as soon as he was admitted. "I didn't mean to act like an asshole just now. The cold temps are just making me super cranky." He adjusted the grey coverlet, which he had flung over his shoulders like a cape, and waited expectantly. 

"I am aware that small inconveniences impact human moods adversely," Spock reassured him. He felt a strange urge to run his palms over Jim's arms, to provide heat by way of friction. As a deterrent to this impulse, he clasped his hands behind his back. 

"But you must be cold," Jim said, frustration creeping into his voice once again. "You've been snippy as hell the past few days, and I don't need to wear a blue shirt to tell you there's a correlation. There's no way the heat problems haven't affected you too." 

Though he opened his mouth to reply at once, Spock paused before he spoke. Clearly Jim would not be gratified if Spock again reminded him that Vulcans did not see the point in futile complaints. Nor would he likely appreciate hearing that Vulcans did not require immediate resolution of negligible problems in order to continue with their customary routines.

"I am experiencing some minor negative effects due to the current state of the ship's temperature," Spock admitted. 

"Minor negative effects," Jim repeated.

Spock nodded. 

"Well, that's it," Jim declared. He went straight over to Spock's bed and added the blanket he wore to the bedclothes, making a show out of smoothing it out.

"What is 'it'?" Spock asked, somewhat alarmed.

"Spock, you just admitted you're chilled. Call me crazy, but that's practically, 'Help, I have to huddle for warmth to survive!' in Vulcan-speak!"

"Though I do not doubt the soundness of your mental health, that is an incorrect deduction," Spock began.

"Listen to me. I'm cold; you're cold. So it only makes sense that we'd bunk together, share body heat." Jim turned back the covers on the bed and immediately slid underneath them. 

Spock stared at the completely unexpected sight of James T. Kirk reclining on his bed, and felt at a genuine loss for words.

"Well?" Jim glanced over his shoulder. When he saw Spock standing there frozen, he rolled his eyes. "It's more efficient this way, right? If we're warmer, we'll get a better night's sleep, and we'll be way more productive tomorrow. It's completely logical." 

Though Spock was not entirely sure he agreed with Jim's rationale, he found himself stepping toward the bed regardless. 

Wordlessly, Jim lifted the covers for him.

When Spock assumed his place behind Jim, the heat began to seep into his body immediately. He closed his eyes, letting the welcome sensation wash over him. Perhaps he had been colder than he had realized these past few days. And though he had before noted the very slight temperature increase when Jim stood enticingly near to him on the bridge, nothing had prepared him for the marvelous immersion in bodily warmth that came from curling close to Jim under the covers. 

"Better, right?" Jim asked. He took the hand Spock had placed tentatively on his hip and drew it around his torso.

Spock chose not to answer the rhetorical question, particularly as he was unsure he could do so without a quaver in his voice. Instead, he shuffled closer. After all, there was no one to see them, there was no work to be distracted from, and Jim was so very warm. 

"I think it's way better," Jim said sleepily. He sighed, scooting back slightly so that their bodies aligned more. 

With a pleased sound that even his highly disciplined mind could not entirely suppress, Spock pressed his nose to the back of Jim's neck and breathed in and out deeply, until they fell asleep together.

***~* the end *~***


End file.
